


Miraculous Begining- Alvin Reynolds

by BraixenBoy17



Series: World Wide Miraculous [1]
Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: F/M, Major Original Character(s), Original Character(s), Original Character-centric
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-01
Updated: 2016-07-01
Packaged: 2018-07-19 10:39:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,740
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7357942
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BraixenBoy17/pseuds/BraixenBoy17
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An origin story for my original miraculous character. Starting in his childhood and moving through the years up until he has to team up with the other Miraculous' to take on the greatest threat the world has ever faced. (WIll be done in another fic)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Miraculous Begining- Alvin Reynolds

**Author's Note:**

> Alvin Reynolds- aged 5, facing one of the biggest nights in his father's life and then going through the worst night of their lives.

A miraculous beginning- Alvin Reynolds

21st May 2006- Camp Nou, Barcelona

Ross Reynolds stood in the tunnel of the Nou Camp, listening to the roar of the crowd. He closed his eyes and gripped his son's hand a little tighter, looking down at the badge on his chest and down to his son, Alvin.

"You okay, Alvie?"

"Yeah daddy, it's just really loud," Alvin answered. Ross chuckled to himself as he let go of Alvin's hand, ruffled his son's hair and placed his hand on his shoulder. An older gentleman in a navy blue suit walked over and shook Ross' hand.

"You ready, skip?"

"Yeah, born ready."

"Hello, little man," the older gentleman smiled, kneeling down to get eye level with the youngster.

"Hi there, Mr. Styles," Alvin replied.

"All set for your big job?" he asked, and Alvin agreed with an excited nod.

"Good lad." And with that, Mitchell Styles walked away towards the away team's dugout.  
The match officials gave the go ahead for Ross and the opposing team's captain, Paco Garcia, to lead their two teams out onto the pitch. Alvin beamed brightly as he took his father's hand and walked out onto the pitch. The roar of the crowd reached fever pitch and the atmosphere was electric. Ross puffed out his chest as the stadium announcer introduced the two teams.

"INTRODUCING THE CHELSEA TEAM FIRST...

MANAGER- MITCHELL STYLES

NO.1 ROSS REYNOLDS (C)

NO.33 MAX GROVES  
NO.5 GEORGE CORNE  
NO.13 FERNANDO SANS

NO.4 SERGIO LOZANO  
NO. 15 LUKAS HARTMANN  
NO.8 MATTEO ROMANO  
NO.11 MATTHEW WILLIAMS  
NO.20 CAI JONES

NO.7 HARRY SULLIVAN  
NO.9 OLIVER TAYLOR"

Ross directed Alvin over to the sidelines, where Ross' brother had a seat saved for him.

"GOOD LUCK, DADDY!" Alvin yelled excitedly. Ross waved as he huddled his team mates around him to deliver his pre-match pep talk.

The commentator reported the match enthusiastically as Ross's team enacted their well-practiced tactics.

"... And that's Cai Jones down the wing, he beats the full back far too easily there, he's whipped in a tasty looking ball towards the back post, it's a dangerous ball AND THERE'S THE GOAL! HARRY SULLIVAN WITH A BULLET HEADER AT THE BACK POST AND CHELSEA LEAD ONE NIL WITH TWENTY MINUTES REMAINING."

"...Chelsea are cruising here with three minutes to play but here comes the Madrid captain into the Chelsea penalty area, Lukas Hartmann coming in to try and disposes him and PENALTY TO MADRID, with three minutes left to play Real Madrid have been awarded a penalty. Paco Garcia steps up, this to take the match into extra time... He steps up, he hits it right footed... AND IT'S SAVED... THE CHELSEA SKIPPER ROSS REYNOLDS SAVES THE PENALTY, CHELSEA ARE STILL ONE NIL UP AND THAT SURELY IS THAT NOW."

The referee blew the final whistle and the Chelsea fans erupted in estatic joy. Ross Reynolds fell to his knees. as he was mobbed by Corne and Groves, the two closest players to him. Mitchell Styles ran full speed onto the pitch to join in with his team's celebrations. Ross ran over to the sidelines and picked Alvin up and brought him on pitch with him. Alvin ran excitedly over to where the rest of the Chelsea squad where celebrating in the centre circle, some of the other players had their wives, girlfriends and children with them on pitch too.

Ross was directed over to where the media corner was set up, his smile beaming proudly as he was introduced to the reporter.

"Ross Reynolds, Chelsea captain. you must be extremely proud of your team tonight?" the reporter asked, adding on the second question as Alvin wandered over, requesting to be picked up. Ross picked his son up, beaming brightly at the brown haired boy in his arms.

"Alex, this has been without a doubt one of the proudest nights of my life. I am so pleased with how we've come through the tournament, we've had some really big games, and we've come through them well, and tonight was just the icing on the cake, one of the best feelings I've ever had."

"And who is this young man you have here with you?"

"This is my eldest child, Alvin."

"And what did you think of your dad's performance tonight?" Alex questioned the young boy.

"Daddy was brilliant." Alvin smiled proudly, wrapping his arms around Ross' neck.  
Ross had a beer placed down in front of him as his mobile phone buzzed against his chest from its place in his suit breast pocket. He mouthed to his friends that he was gonna go and take this call outside where it would be quiet enough for him to hear. Taking his phone out, he smiled as soon as he saw it was his wife calling.

"Hey."

"Ross! Get home NOW!"

"Why? What's happened?"

"It's Paris! Please just come home," Sophie cried down the phone.

I'm on my way!" Ross reassured her, knowing that something was seriously wrong. Heflagged down a taxi and made the driver rush to his hotel.

Ross' taxi came to a halt at the scene outside of his hotel. A private ambulance was parked up on the pavement, flanked by two rapid response ambulances. All colour drained from his face as he slammed down 30 Euros on the dashboard and jumped out of the cab, sprinting to his room. As he entered, the air was sucked from his body at the scene that greeted him. Sophie was sat on the floor, her back against a wall, clutching Paris' favourite stuffed animal, a lion teddy bear - a gift from Alvin. Her knees were pulled up to her chest, tears staining her cheeks, her breathing ragged and shallow. Ross knelt down in front and placed his hands on her shoulders as she looked up at him, eyes swimming with tears. She gave him a small shake of her head and looked away from him again. Ross' knees buckled from underneath him as he felt his world come crashing down around him.  
Ross and Sophie were sat on the balcony in total silence, Ross' arm around her shoulder, Sophie holding Paris' favourite stuffed animal, a cuddly lion. Their attention was snapped by Alvin's tiny footsteps approaching the balcony.

"Mummy, Daddy. Where's Paris?" Alvin asked. Sophie and Ross looked up from the floor and beckoned Alvin over to come and sit between them. He sat down on his mother's knee, and she wrapped her arms around him. Ross sighed deeply.

"Paris... Paris has gone to heaven," Sophie explained.

"When is she coming back?" Alvin asked.

"Umm, she's not coming back, darling."

"So does that mean we'll have to visit her?"

"No, sweetie, we can't go and visit."

"Well then, heaven sounds stupid" Alvin complained before tears started welling up in his eyes.

"Oh, my baby boy," Sophie sobbed, holding Alvin closer to her, letting her tears flow freely. Ross looked down at both of them, pulling them closer to him andfighting back his own tears.

Two weeks later 

Ross Reynolds sat down in front of the room full of reporters and journalists he had invited here for his press conference.

"Good afternoon ladies and gentlemen, thank you for being here. I'll try and make this as brief as I can. I would like to firstly thank all of my friends, team mates, managers and players from other clubs for their well wishes and condolences. It really means a lot to me and my family. Secondly, with immediate effect... I am announcing my retirement from football for the foreseeable future," Ross announced to the gathered press. He got up and walked off before he could be bombarded with questions.

Ross walked back into the Stamford Bridge home changing rooms. He sat down in the seat that had been his for the past seventeen years and buried his heads in his hands, and he just let out all of the tears he'd been holding back the past two weeks, staying strong for the rest of his family. He didn't hear the doors opening or the footsteps of his team mates as they entered the dressing room and formed a semi-circle around him.

"Ross?" Mitchell wispered, taking a seat next to him. Ross didn't move or look up until Mitchell put an arm around his shoulders. Ross looked up and wiped away the tears from his eyes.

"Hi, boss."

"Ross, we all saw your press conference..." George began.

"And we've all been thinking..." Max continued.

"We've all got together... And we want to pay for Paris' funeral." Harry finished. Mitchell handed Ross a small folded piece of paper, andRoss looked around his team mates, tears again returning to his eyes .

"Guys... I... I can't accept this," Ross croaked.

"Please, Ross, you've done everything for this club and this team, you've given blood, sweat,  
tears and more for the club. The very least we can do is offer our support and help take some of the stress away during the worst of times," Mitchell affirmed.

"Ross, when I first came to England and to Chelsea you were the first person to make me feel welcome here. You helped me to settle, you helped me with anything and everything I needed, you never made me feel bad or stupid when I messed up with my English or out on the pitch. Du bist ein wunderbarer mensch," Lukas complimented, switching to his native German tongue.

"Ross, since day one when I made my first team debut at sixteen years old, you looked out for me, not just on the pitch but off it as well. You helped me develop into a man. I know I don't know you as well as some of the older players in this team, but you were and still are someone I always looked up to and wanted to emulate. You were the first person to call me after I lost my grandmother, you took me aside and made sure I was okay, you looked out for me more than you had to do, as you do for everybody, so please. From all of us that love you and care about you let us do this for you," Oliver commented. Ross looked up and around at his team mates gathered around him, nodding in agreement with what Lukas and Oliver were saying. He took a deep breath.

"Thank you, all of you."


End file.
